Sleeping Schematics
by Starblaze and Solaris
Summary: Remus wants to sleep. Then he wants to go outside, but Sirius is being a pain, again. Remus now wants Sirius to sleep. Sirius is refusing to sleep. Remus wants to fix this. Written while high on sugar and more alcohol filched from the stir-fry than was strictly a good idea.


StarblazeAndSolaris SAS SolStar

**Star: What? Another one? Okay, I get it; you get bored/have an idea/want to avoid homework/felt like it/it's a Friday, so you write fanfics. But how sleep-deprived were you, exactly, when you wrote this piece of nonsense?**

**Sol: Je suis désolé, ma sœur. ****But I was on a bit of a sugar high, and I had drunk an entire (large) bottle of alcoholic ginger beer by myself not an hour earlier, along with some (a generous portion) of the cooking wine, and it was about half past ten at night in the middle of the Christmas holidays when I started it, and it just carried on...**

**Star: I give up. Readers, my apologies, I cannot stop her churning out this incomprehensible mush.**

**Rating: K? K+? Something like that. Star, help me out here.**

**Genre: Friendship, an attempt at humour.**

**Disclaimer: We have been hinting rather heavily, but, like the 'Guild of Assassins' bag that Sol wants, the parents are refusing to get us the ownership rights to Harry Potter. We're stuck as boring students for now then.**

**Sleeping Schematics**

Remus never cries out after a nightmare. Nor does he cry out during said nightmare. No, Remus has learned, through long years of nightmares, to remain silent. After all, he needs all the energy he has to get through the school day without collapsing. And letting his friends know about his monthly problem would be a very bad idea, would it not? So Remus Lupin, who has heard of certain useful silencing charms, but has no idea how to perform them, knows to keep his mouth shut. Of course, none of this is particularly useful when it comes to the strange little whimpers that he _knows_ will escape him when the nightmare is particularly bad. Because it is _bad_, very, very bad, that not all of his dorm mates are heavy sleepers. Peter hits the sack each night and is out like a light, while James, if he put his mind to it, could sleep through the cruciatus curse. Sirius, on the other hand, is one of the lightest sleepers Remus has ever encountered, which says a lot, because Remus has the sleeping patterns of a real wolf: he likes to sleep for a couple of hours, then get up and _do_ something for several hours, then go back to sleep, all curled up in a warm ball of heaving Remus. But Sirius, Sirius seems to be attuned to the movement of people over the threshold of the dorm, which Remus finds completely bizarre. He knows that Sirius wakes up when someone leaves, or enters, or even pokes their head around the door to see what is going on inside. He knows this because, when he wakes up in the middle of the night, needing to work, or eat, or just _run,_ the instant he puts his foot outside the door, Sirius is sitting up in his bed, hair unruly, eyes filled with sleep, demanding to know what is going on and why Remus had to go and wake him up at stupid o'clock in the morning. Remus is sure that Sirius has some kind of magical alarm on the door, which drags him from his dreams the moment someone enters, or leaves, their dormitory. And this _annoys_ Remus. Remus is allowed to have stupid sleeping patterns: _he_ turns into a huge wolf once a month, which is sure to upset anyone's sleep schedule, but _Sirius_ – what reason could he possibly have for being attuned to the movement of other people? But the strangest thing of all, Remus found, was that Sirius was pretty much immune to anything else that tried to wake him up. Clothing flung across the dormitory through use of the rather convenient 'wingardium leviosa,' loud bangs and crashes from falling furniture, courtesy of the same, even dropping Peter or James on him, or using the ever-convenient 'levi-corpus' does nothing to wake him. But put so much as a toenail outside of the dorm, and he is as alert as it is possible to be when you are dangling upside down with your face buried in Peter's ample stomach and a pile of suddenly dangerous-looking furniture threatening to impale you the instant you make your descent. Remus sometimes wonders why he bothers trying not to cry or make any sort of noise after a bad dream. It's not as though any of the others are about to notice anything. Mind you, he thinks, tear tracks and red eyes in the morning are not very manly, and the others would tease him mercilessly if they saw him. So early one morning, when Remus finally tires of Sirius' stupid sleeping patterns and his own restlessness, Remus decides he will quench his desire to act by finding a way to force Sirius to sleep.

"Stupefy!" he mutters from where he sits, cross-legged, in the middle of the dormitory floor. Sirius does nothing, which Remus takes as a good sign, so he goes to test his theory.

"Rem? Wha' 're you up to?" Remus groans silently, tilting his head back in irritation. He schools his expression though, and turns to face his friend.

"Nothing Sirius. Go back to sleep."

"Was it something not serious then?" Remus groans again, although this time it is accompanied by a fond smile.

"You and your puns. Seriously - that got old before the end of our first train ride here." Sirius grins, his black hair almost imitating James' bird's-nest-style until he shakes his head in a decidedly canine gesture, and it flops into place. Remus grimaces internally – his own hair is a catastrophe with no natural parting to speak of, and some of the worst tangles he has ever encountered.

"But Rem! Jokes by the great Sirius Black are never serious!" Remus turns to drop his forehead onto the door frame with a thud and another groan.

"Enough! I surrender! I was going to read in the common room. I can't sleep."

Sirius raised an elegant eyebrow.

"And you had to wake me up to do so?"

Remus grits his teeth.

"Of course not, I just went to leave and you were suddenly interrogating me!" Sirius huffs and turns over so that his back faces the door, dropping back onto the mattress with enough force to make the bed springs creak.

"Fine. Don't wake me up coming back in." A moment later, he is limp and calm under the duvet, and Remus is massaging his temples in an attempt to alleviate his headache. There has to be another way. He is certain, and determined, that by the end of tonight, he will have found a way to make sure Sirius does not wake. He fishes a book from his trunk, squints at the cover and flicks it open with practised ease. After a good twenty minutes, he whispers,

"Petrificus totalus?" Sirius stiffens and falls from where he was curled into a foetal ball onto his back, limbs firmly attached to his side. Remus shakes his head, and releases him.

"Nope. So maybe, some sort of Dreamless sleep potion? Although that prevents dreams and... oh bother, where's the ruddy potions textbook when you need it?" He rolls off the bed, hitting the floor with a quiet thud and bouncing straight up to go directly to his trunk in search of another book.

"Hmm... A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration? Not quite. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them? Well, I've found one, but he is rather struggling to prove himself fantastic. The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2? Well, maybe. I'll put that one aside. Bingo!" Remus ends his quiet monologue with a grin and a flourish, pulling a battered and yellowing paperback from the bottom of the stack. The words, _Desperate Domestic Charms_ curl in gleaming, embossed gold over the once dark blue cover. Remus has always been careful not to let his friends know about this book, firstly because it is his mother's, and he does not want it damaged, and secondly because he does not want to be teased. The main reason, however, is that it contains an assortment of spells which he uses to dull pain and heal small wounds after the full moon, and quite a few of his favourites are designed to work on the pets, not the children. There are also a few rather... dangerous charms and even a few jinxes hidden within, for the controlling of children and partners who become carried away and end up smashing all the windows in the living room. None are actually harmful, but containment charms for accidental magic could cause a lot of problems if one of the other Marauders discovered them. The Slytherins, for example, would all end up trapped in a bubble of their own magic, incapable of casting a spell to free themselves, and only thickening the entrapment every time they tried. So no, Remus thinks, it is definitely not a good idea to show this book to James, Sirius and Peter. But there will be something in here, if it is anywhere...

"Dormite bene," he calls, the words gliding smoothly off his tongue as he flicks his wrist. Sirius' breathing seems to slow even further, his muscles relaxing until Remus is slightly worried that he has done something wrong, and Sirius is now made of jelly or some such structure. But no, Sirius continues to breathe, and the small amount of light falling through the curtains illuminates just enough of him for Remus to see that Sirius is still Sirius-coloured, not bright orange or pink, or whatever colour Sirius-style jelly is. Remus trots over to the door, and puts a careful foot outside, twisting on the balls of his feet as Sirius grunt and tries to sit up.

"Re - "

"Dormite bene!" Remus feels a hint of guilt as Sirius drops to the mattress again, limp and breathing heavily before he hits the pillow, but it leaves quickly, and he returns to his book.

A moment later, he tries again.

"Non vigilaveris," he whispers, watching with interest as the swish of his wand creates some pale, pulsing lights, which vaguely resemble fireflies, except for the fact that real fireflies would actually fly around the room and probably out of the window, not go slowly but directly to Sirius and through his eyelids. Sirius twitches at this, then relaxes back into sleep. Remus raises an eyebrow, and pads to the door to test this one. He pulls it open, ignoring the hint of a creak as the hinges protest. Peter was swinging from the top of the door the other day, and has somehow managed to pull it off-centre. Remus is still confused as to how he managed to break a _magically reinforced _dormitory door. But then, he amends, Peter has always had a knack for breaking things. This is something that James and Sirius have taken advantage of on several occasions, generally with catastrophic results. But he is getting sidetracked, and he shivers as a draft wafts through the open door. He steps through. A snuffling sound like a dog's sniff sounds behind him, ridiculously loud in the night. Sirius is slowly opening sleep-filled eyes, although he is taking his time about it, something he has never done before. Sirius normally just jerks into consciousness, tousle headed and mischievous. Remus sighs quietly, but points his wand and Sirius and whispers,

"Dormite bene," for a third time. Once again Sirius drops to his mattress, springs making a 'cloink' in the night. Remus returns to his bed, feeling for his book to start reading again. What he sees makes him frown, but his eyes light up in amusement despite his obvious concern. They dart to Sirius' bed, then back to the footnote, and when he next speaks, the words are chuckles, breathy and quick.

"Side effects of the 'Sleep Well Spell' when performed in excess are severe drowsiness when the sleeper wakes, along with sluggish thoughts and temporarily decreased mental capacity. With these come unreasonable grumpiness, as the body understands something is wrong, but the brain cannot process it. If any of these symptoms appear, desist from using the spell for at least a week to ensure that they do not return." Remus vaguely wonders if this will have any effect whatsoever on Sirius, who is not the single most intelligent boy on the planet, and is generally disgruntled, but alert, when woken. Remus then thinks that he doesn't particularly care, as long as he can get out of the dorm and just _run_ and _do_ something until his limbs ache with fatigue, and – he stops his thoughts right there, otherwise he _knows_ that he will do something stupid, like stupefying irritating, _irritating_ Sirius until his brains dribble out of his ears.

"Hmm..." he breathes, running a chewed fingernail down the yellowing page, until it reaches the smaller, additional notes at the bottom of the page, beside the pencil sketch of a cot containing a silently wailing baby.

"For particularly stubborn cases, more specific spells can be used, and adjusted to meet the caster's needs. For example, if a husband is in the habit of sleepwalking, and causing the wife to awaken in the process, the 'Sleep Well Spell' can be edited until it is said, 'Dormite bene et sine motus,' which prevents unnecessary movement on the sleepwalker's part. The 'Sleep Well Spell' is particularly versatile, which allows for use on a wide range of subjects." Remus lifts his gaze from the minuscule footnotes and taps his wand against his lower lip. He pulls a muggle pencil from his bedside drawer where it lies beside his quills, and flips his History of Magic homework over on top of the drawer so he can write, oh so lightly, on the back of the essay. He scribbles carefully for several minutes, brow creased in concentration, pausing every few moments to ensure that his companions have not stirred. Not that they would, but it pays to be careful. He hums under his breath for a moment, and regards his work.

"Dormite bene et non vigilaveris," he hisses, flexing his wrist so that his wand emits a pair of bobbing yellow lights, as before. This time, however, they land on Sirius' eyelids, but do not pass through the tanned skin, fluttering like moths in the dark. Remus slips over to the doorway, and steps through, glancing back to see Sirius stir once again.

"Stupefy!" whispers Remus before Sirius has the chance to speak, or even sit up fully, and Sirius flops back onto the bed like a landed fish. Remus returns to his work, sighing every now and then in exasperation.

"Who knew that rearranging spell phrases could be so confusing!" he mutters, then grins as inspiration strikes him.

"Of course! I need to be more specific! Now, what's the phrase for 'crosses the threshold'?" He picks up the Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2, from where he left it earlier, and flicks to the 'Phrases and Pronunciation' section at the back.

"Mebbe... Quando limen? When someone crosses the threshold? That should do it." He points his wand again, and says, very precisely, and clearly,

"Dormite bene et non vigilaveris quando limen." For a third time, little golden orbs float from Remus' wand tip, and for the third time, they do not repeat their earlier actions. One orb moves to Sirius, and lowers itself gently to the smooth skin between Sirius' eyes, whilst the other bobs across the room to the doorway, and simply hovers, directly inside the centre of the lintel. Yet again, Remus stands up from where he is seated on the foot of his bed and crosses the room, pulling open the door which insists on closing itself every time he leaves it open. He wonders absently if he could use Peter as a doorstop, before concluding that it would not work, as eventually Peter would wake up and wonder what on earth he was doing on the floor before wandering down to the kitchens in search of inspiration. Remus suddenly realises that he has been standing by the doorway, holding the door itself open with one hand for nigh on three minutes now without moving. This, he concludes, is completely pointless, and he really should get going. After all, he wants to know if his new spell worked. Remus steps through the door backwards, his amber eyes never leaving Sirius' face, where the golden firefly-light is still resting. As he does so, the light pulses once, but Sirius does not move, and Remus' face breaks out into a wide grin. He punches the air wildly, leaping and spinning around the mezzanine in a bizarre victory dance which vaguely resembles a mad bee attempting to perform a waggle dance while trying to mate with a drunken wasp. His limbs flail with only the slightest semblance of self-control, and his eyes are shut while he laughs wildly, his head falling back and forth in a ludicrous mimicry of what Sirius calls 'head-banging.'

"_YES!_" he yells, ecstatic. "_I'VE DONE IT!_"

"Remus?" He freezes, fists still raised. He rotates slowly on the spot, lowering himself from his tiptoes as he does so. Inside the dormitory, three shapes are sitting upright on their respective beds, and he can _feel_ their glares pinning him to the wall. All three of them spoke at once, and now he is really, really worried.

"Yes?" he says, suddenly meek.

"Shut. Up. G' back t' sleep. I's too early." James, or at least, the silhouette on James' bed, speaks in James' voice, then flops back down, yanking the curtains shut as it goes. The blob on Peter's bed makes a squeaky, affirmative noise and copies the James-blob, except it can't quite manage the manoeuvre, and ends up pulling the hangings from their rail. It swears sleepily, and gives up, rolling over and is within moments snoring again. The Sirius blob just sighs, yawns and curls up, facing the door.

"Rem?"

"Sorry Sirius."

"'S alrigh'. Slee' now." Remus cocks an eyebrow, then realises that the pulsing firefly lights are gone, and that he is, in fact, feeling the itch behind his eyelids that means he needs sleep.

"Okay then. Sleep well." The irony of this statement is suddenly realised, and Remus crosses the room to stifle his giggles in his pillow. Remus' world appears to be closing in, and Remus is suddenly not worried about Sirius' stupid sleeping habits, because he has his own sleep to reacquaint himself with.

_**Finis**_


End file.
